


Cauliflower

by rosalynbair



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff, Swearing, this has a really bad ending bc im horrible at fluff, west Virginian accents?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:03:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15386373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosalynbair/pseuds/rosalynbair
Summary: Cauliflower is a word avoided in the confines of the trailer you share with Clyde. When Clyde comes home from the bar to tell you that Jimmy has once again called on him to be the one to take the beating of a heist, you finally draw the line.





	Cauliflower

Cauliflower.

Clyde Logan hated the word, he hated the vegetable, he hated the meaning behind it, and he hated his brother for saying it to him. Jimmy Logan had sworn he would never say the words again after the Motor city speedway heist, yet here he was, sitting in Duct tape, drinking his free beer while repeating Cauliflower for the third time, trying to get it through his younger brother’s head that he needed help. Somehow hoping that if he said it three times Clyde would immediately be ready for anything Jimmy proposed. Almost as if he were an off-brand version of Beetlejuice.

“No.” Clyde says, trying to leave no room for persuasion in his voice.

“Clyde, we need this. Mellie needs this to buy the salon.” Jimmy insists, leaning forward over the bar.

“No.” Clyde says again. His mind going immediately to you, thinking about the speedway heist and how you yelled at him for days for even agreeing to it, or how you didn’t speak for him for weeks after the entire ordeal was over. “I don’t need another one, I’m fine with wha’ I have.”

“I won’t give ya anything if you don’t want it Clyde.” Jimmy says, taking a swig from his beer. “I just need your help with it.”

“I sai’ no Jimmy.” Clyde barks, turning away to wipe down another part of the bar.

“And I sai’ Cauliflower!” Jimmy orders, standing from his stool to try to get on a closer eye level with his brother.

Clyde’s shoulders slump, his hand stilling on the bar, fingers squeezing tightly around the rag he was holding. Clyde turns his head, his dark eyes filled with sorrow.

“Okay.” He says quietly.

He looked away once more, walking away from his brother. He’d do anything for his brother, it had always been that way. And besides, if you left him because of this, it would be what he deserved. The curse already took his arm, why wouldn’t it take you?

~

Clyde was late home, he took extra time to clean the bar tonight, trying to find the words that he was going to say to you.

He wasn’t ready for the yelling, he hated when you were mad at him. You were the love of his life, his soul mate. And he was about to give you a way out of the relationship with him.

His boots were loud against the small porch to the trailer, stirring you from your sleeping state on the couch.

“Clyde?” You yawn, squinting at the clock on the stove from your spot.

4:14am.

“Did I wake ya?” He asks quietly, walking across the small room to sit on the end of the couch after your curled your knees towards your chest.

“Mhm.” You mumble, resting your eyes closed again. You can feel the couch dip and adjust as Clyde began to unlace his boots. “You’re late tonight.”

Clyde doesn’t respond, removing his boot before beginning on the next.

You sit up, the old quilt your nana had made when you were a kid fell around your thighs. You push the hair away from your face as you lean towards your fiancée.

“Clyde?” You ask softly, reaching up to place a hand on his arm. “Was it a bad night at the bar?”

He was silent for another moment, grabbing his boots by the back and setting them together neatly under the coffee table.

“You coul’ say that.” He mumbles, shying away from your touch.

Your brows furrow as you look at him, dropping your hand from him. He hadn’t moved away from your touch since you first started dating.

“Clyde?” You ask again, worry lacing your tone. “What happened?”

Clyde releases a long, shaky sigh. He refuses to look at you, to see any form of disappointment on your face. “Jimmy sai’ Cauliflower.” He mumbles out, barely audible.

“He said what?” You ask, already knowing what he had said, but you wanted to make sure. You wanted to know that this wasn’t just a joke.

“Jimmy sai’ Cauliflower.” He repeats, voice cracking slightly on the last word.

“Why?” You ask immediately, wiping your eyes of any sleep that was remaining.

“Mellie needs to buy the sa-lon.” He tells you, dropping his head into his hand. “‘Else she’ll lose her job. Won’t have no money if we don’t.”

“You agreed to it. Didn’t you, Clyde Logan?” You ask, watching his shoulders shake gently.

“I had ta’” He responds, risking a glance up at you.

In the dark of the trailer, he couldn’t see your face. He knew exactly what expression would be flashing through your features. Anger, disappointment, sadness.

“Clyde you know you didn’t have to.” You respond, turning away and resting your feet on the carpeted floor. He could hear the chance in your tone, it seeped into his skin and bones, radiating through his veins as anxiety pounded through him.

“I had ta’” Clyde repeats, looking over at you shyly. His dark hair was in his face, strands covering his eyes and forehead.

“You didn’t.” You repeat back, your voice a little bit harsher than it had been before.

You were angry. Of course you were angry. Clyde had promised, promised that he was done with the childish Logan cauliflower bullshit. Even during the Motor City Speedway heist, you had been furious. You had yelled yourself raw to the point that even if you did want to talk to Clyde, you wouldn’t have been able to.

“They’re my family.” Clyde says, trying to defend himself.  
“I’m your family too.” You snap, raising from your seat to look down at him. The quilt falls to the floor, pooling around your feet. “We’re family Clyde. Just like you and Jimmy and Mellie.”

“Yeah - but..” Clyde begins, falling silent on his excuse. He knew you wouldn’t take it, wouldn’t accept anything that came out of his mouth.

You were right. You were his family. Just like Jimmy and Mellie were his family. But you were the one who had chosen to be his family, you had chosen him just as he had chosen you. But him and his siblings hadn’t chosen each other. They were stuck with each other for the rest of their lives.  
“I’m going to bed.” You mummer, turning away from Clyde.   
“Baby-.” Clyde whimpers, standing from the couch to grab at your hand.  
It was large as it surrounded your fingers, his fingers warm around yours. With the slight tug from him, you turned back around. Your eyes find his in the dim lighting, his deep brown eyes filling with tears.   
“Clyde.” You mummer, looking down at his hand that held you. “Just.. Give me the night. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”  
Clyde releases you, and you turn away once more. You step out of the confines of the quilt around your ankles before walking to the small bedroom. As you crawled between the cold sheets, you curl up in the middle of the bed, already hearing Clyde trying to settle on the couch.

~

As the morning came, the air around you was warm under the rising sun that streamed through the thread bare curtain covering the small window in the bedroom.

You lay on your back, the old springs of the mattress pressing into your back as you stare up at the popcorn ceiling. The smell of bacon and frying eggs was permeating the air and stirring awake you grumbling stomach.

Once rolling to the side of the bed, you swing your legs over the side, resting your bare feet on the carpeted floor. As you stand, you bring your arms over your head, dropping your head back and arching your spine until you could hear the symphony of pops as your joints released the pressure held in them.

Clyde was standing in front of the griddle that sat on the counter, grease from the bacon popping up to hit his old Bob Seger shirt that he often slept in. He was in the boxers he had worn the day before, a string from the fraying hem hanging and tickling his thigh.

"You're up early." You comment quietly, glancing at the clock on the microwave that barely passed eight.

"Wan'ed to make you breakfast." He responds, not looking up at you. And you're sure that if he turned to face you, you would find his eyes rimmed with red and stains on his cheeks from tears he had been sure you wouldn't be able to hear as you slept.

"You didn't sleep." You say simply, walking and sliding into the booth of the breakfast nook, hands wrapping around the already prepared cup of coffee that he had placed beside the little tupperware of sugar.

"No." He says, not bothering to deny something so miniscule. Not when the two of you needed to have the conversation that was running through both of your minds.

Clyde pulls the last of the bacon off of the gridle, dropping it into a bowl lined with paper towels to catch the dripping grease it bathed in.

He puts the bowl in the middle of the table, moving around for a few more moments to place the two plates of scrambled eggs on the table as well.

"Thank you." You say gently, watching him closely as he sat down with a thump and picked up a few pieces of bacon to set on his plate.

Breakfast was quiet. The two of you trying to savor the silence before the talk. The argument.

No words were spoken as you ate. Or as you gathered up the dishes. Putting the leftover bacon in the fridge and did up the dishes to set them in the drying rack.

When the water was shut off, you turn around to face the man who had turned his chair to watch you. The heels of your hands are braced on the edge of the counter, elbows bent and your lower back resting against the counter.

"So." You sigh, meeting Clyde's gaze.

You can see him swallow the lump in his throat. Could almost hear his heart hammering.

"Tell me what is involved in this...heist." You say. "Why does it need to happen? Why do you need to be involved?"

"I- Mellie needs to buy the sa-lon." Clyde tells you after his swallows again.

"What wrong with her just working there?" You ask.

"Her boss is sellin' the property." He says. "Gonna fire Mellie and the others. Ain't gonna open up a new one."

"And Mellie wants to buy the property to keep that salon open." You work out, trying to follow along with the logic of the Logan clan. 

"Yeah." Clyde nods, running his fingers through his long and tangled hair. "But Mellie doesn' have the money to buy it outrigh'."

"So she wants to steal money from another speedway to pay for the salon." You sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose between your index and your thumb.

"Yeah." He says, tugging his fingers through the tangles.

"Has Mellie been to the bank to try to work things out? Take out a loan? Borrow from someone?" You ask, brows furrowing, trying to think of everything that could possibly be done instead. "Don't you Logans have that trust fund your parents set up for you three? You're all old enough to access is now, aren't you?"

"She been to the bank, they turned her down since she ain't got a credit score. And she ain't gonna borrow from anyone." Clyde mutters. "Da is still alive, we can't get any of the money from the account until he passes."

"You Logans are going to be the death of me." You mumble, leaning your head back and closing your eyes for a few moments.

When you stand up straight, eyes opening again to look at Clyde, you can see how much this entire thing is tearing him apart.

"Don't you think," you ask "that it's going to look suspicious since Mel has been denied by the bank for a loan? If she buys the salon, she has to register it as a business with the bank, and there's only one bank branch in Boone County. She'd have to go out of town to get all her paperwork done. And how's she going to buy it? With cash? The exact cash that'll be taken from the speedway? Don't you think anyone's going to question her for it? She'll be the first person they go after!"

"We thought o' that already." Clyde says the moment you were done your small rant. "That's why i'm gonna be the one to take the blame for it if the cops come sniffin'."

"Excuse me?" You snap, eyes narrowing. "A heist is one thing Clyde Logan Logan, but handing yourself over to the police? Theft and breaking and entering are serious charges Clyde! You could go to jail for years! They could put you on felony charges! You'd be a felon!"

"I know." Clyde whispers, his head dropping down until his hair veiled his face.

"Why can't Jimmy take the blame?" You ask, crossing your arms together to hide your shaking hands.

"He's go' Sadie and Sylvia." Clyde mutters.

"And you've got me!" You snap. "You'd be risking the loss of things too. Why did you ever agree to this?"

"Jimmy sai' Cauliflower." He explains, already knowing what you'd say to him.

"Cauliflower is a childs game." You say quietly, repressed anger lacing the words. "It was fine as kids when Jimmy would get you to steal a stick of gum or a small toy from the gas station. It stopped being okay when you went to Juvie. This is the farthest thing from okay. You could be risking absolutely everything."

"I know." Clyde says again, slowly bringing his head up until you were staring at each other.

"If you do it, you're signing off on us, do you understand that?" You ask, your plummeting heart screaming at him to say he wouldn't do it. That you were more important than a heist.

"I do." He says, holding your gaze with his.

That was never the way you ever wanted to hear those words come from his lips. You had hoped to hear them after sliding rings on each others fingers. After deciding to stay with each other for the rest of your lives.

Yet here you were, in the small kitchen of your shared - Clyde's trailer. Using the words as a way to break up.

“Alright.” You say with a sigh, forcing any sign of the prickling tears away. “Give me the weekend so I can make sure my old room is available at home.”

“Home?” Clyde asks, his eye twitching slightly as he forced away his own tears.

“With my mom.” You mummer, reaching up to push your hair away from your forehead.

“That’s out o’ state.” he says, brows furrowed.

“You’re the only thing keeping me here.” You tell him, watching his heart break through his eyes.

“You go’ a job here.” He tries to argue.

“I can find a job back home.” You respond, the emotion slowly seeping from your voice.

“You have friends here.” Clyde whispers, his voice falling from its usual tone.

“I have friends back home.” You answer.

“You got me here.” He says in a last ditch effort.

“Not for long.” You say. “Who knows where they’re going to send you when they charge you.”

Clyde doesn’t say anything after that, his head falling into his palm as he wipes away the falling tears.

~

You’re gone the next day, your possessions packed into an old duffle bag you had moved in with. Clyde was at the bar by the time you left the bedroom and locked up the trailer. Although he often left it unlocked, free for Mellie and Jimmy to come and go as they pleased, you locked the front door and slipped the key through the mail slot.

When you hear the key hit the carpet, you lift up your bag and slide it over your shoulder. As you turn, you give a small smile to the taxi driver that was waiting for you beside Clyde’s old and rundown car that he swore he would fix up one day.

You drop the bag beside you as you slip into the back seat of the musty and smoke scented car. The air freshener that hung from the rear view mirror barely making a dent in the years of accumulated scents.

“Where to miss?” The man asks, looking back at you in the mirror.

“The airport please.” You respond, not bothering to look at him, too busy staring at the trailer.

It blended in with the neutral tones of the scenery around it. The heat wave and the drout having dimmed the natural green hues of the lansdscape into dull browns that blurred together if you looked at it for too long.

As the driver backed out of the long driveway, you watched the trailer you had called home for the past four years fade into the distance. The mountian and trailer blending together the further away you were.

When the car was turned around and facing the right way, you sniff slightly, rubbing the cuff of your sleeve across your nose before settling down properly into the seat. You keep your head tilted to the window beside you, watching the sun lit streets of the town you had grown to love pass by you in a blur.

~

"Hi mom." You say softly, hugging the woman in front of you tightly, arms wrapped around her shoulders while hers held your torso.

"I've missed you." She tells you. "I just wish you were coming back on better terms."

"Me too." You sigh, pulling away and taking her hand. "Can we go get dinner? It was a long flight."

~

You were curled up on the tan sectional of your childhood home. Dinner was sitting in the oven as you waited for your mom to come home from her job at city hall.

The small spaniel that you had adopted a few months after returning home was laying beside you, pressed up against your thigh as you watched the news.

"An update on the second Motor City Speedway heist in the last six years, thirty-two year old Clyde Logan of Boone County, West Virginia has been arrested and charged with theft and breaking and entering, along with two other minor charges." The woman on the screen said. "Mr. Logan is to appear before the courts on November ninth of this year. There is no information released on if Mr. Logan was also involved in the first - failed - robbery six years ago."

You mute the television, bringing your hands up to rub at your face.

~

"Clyde Logan has been sentenced to four years in state prison with the possibility for parole after two years." The same woman says on November twelvth, four days after Clyde began his court date.

You watch quietly from the desk at the local library you worked at as the camera panned to Clyde. He was the same, though his hair had been trimmed and he didn't have his prosthetic on.

He didn't look up at the camera or the news reporter asking him questions, instead keeping his head down to avoid the questions and harassment as much as possible.

"Who would be so dumb as to steal money from a racetrack?" one of the regular library atendees says as she rolls her eyes. "Men with bad parents! That's who!"

You had to bite your tongue, you couldn't defend Clyde here. You couldn't tell her that he had extremely loving parents but a tragic past. That he did the entire thing to help his sister.

Instead, you scan her books and set them in her bag for her.

"Have a nice day Marge." You say with a forced smile.

When she walks out, you look back up to the screen to catch the final glimpse of Clyde before he was pushed into the police car to escort him to the prison.

~

"Hello?" You ask once you picked up your ringing phone. You rub your eye and yawn, glancing to the clock on your nightstand. It was barely two in the morning.

"Hey, uh it's M-."

"Mellie." You say, recognizing the twang of her voice anywhere.

"Yeah." She says sheepishly. "I'm sorry if it's a bad time, I don' know what zone you're in for sleepin."

"It's just after two in the morning." You tell her with a grumble. "What do you want."

Your tone is cold. You hadn't spoken to anyone from West Virginia in almost two and a half years.

"I.. Well. I guess i'm callin' to clear my own consious and make things right." She tells you.

"It's a little late for that Mellie Logan." You snap, rolling until you were on your back.

"I know. I just wanted to say that i'm really sorry." Mellie sniffs. "I know this is all my fault. Even though Jimmy planned it all, he would have never done it if I hadn't told him that I needed help."

"I'm not the one you should apologizing to if you're that desperate to clear your name." You say, already losing your patience.

"I know, I know." She urges, hearing your annoyance. "It's my fault."

"You said that already."

"I- Oh why can't I think of the right words." She curses herself.

After a deep breath, she begins again. "It's my fault that Clyde is in prison, and my fault that you left him. Everything was fine until I made the dumb decision to buy the salon."

"You're right about that." You say, not even bothering to comfort her.

"What i'm trying to say is that Clyde is being let out on Monday for good behaviour. They're puttin' him on probation.. And I know he's had a rough three years. With you walkin out and the heist goin' wrong and then going to jail." She says with a shaky breath. "I was wonderin if there's anyway that you could ever forgive him? You don't have to ever forgive Jimmy and I, but could you forgive Clyde?"

"There's nothing to forgive him for." You sigh. "He only did what he's always known. Helping you two has always been the one thing that he'd put above everything. Even me."

She can hear the bitterness in your voice, could hear that you had forgiven Clyde almost the moment after you left.

"Well, uh. That didn't take too much convincing'." She huffs. "Could..Could you come home?"

"I am home." You tell her simply.

"No. Home home. Boone County home. Clyde's trailer home." She clarifies. "He doesn't know that i'm callin, and i'm really trying to make things right here. If.. If you met him at the trailer, you'd light up his life, you'd put the happiness back into him."

"Mel.. I'll think about it." You say, almost having denied the request completely. "I'll call you back tonight when i'm actually awake."

"Okay." She nods, though you can't see her. "I'll talk to you tonight.. I'm sorry for wakin' you."

"Goodnight Mellie." You say, pulling the phone away from your ear and hanging up, dropping it onto the pillow beside you before rolling over and closing your eyes again. Images of Clyde dancing behind your lids.

~

You sat outside of the county jail that Clyde had been transferred to in the past few weeks to prepare him to re-enter civilization.

You were sitting in the second hand car you had picked up from a dealership in town with a hookup from Mellie. Bear was curled up in the back seat, making sure he was in the crossfire of all the airconditioning units in the car, his fur blowing every which way.

It was mid morning, the sun high in the sky and beating the poor town with another hot summer. You watched the gates of the jail, keeping an eye on the matte black jeep that pulled up.

The gates began to open and Clyde Logan stepped out of the jeep.

He nods quietly to the guard that drove him out, his eyes hidden under a baseball cap that made his hair poof out from under it.

He didn't have his prosthetic on yet, and you remember seeing it on the table in the living room of the trailer when you had dropped your bag off.

His button up shirt was tucked into his jeans as usual, the sleeves short and stretched over his biceps.

Even though you couldn't see his eyes, you knew he was scanning the parking lot for any sign of Mellie or Jimmy. And when he stands outside the gates for a few minutes, thinking he had to wait for them, you release a shaky sigh and undo your seatbelt.

Clyde's eyes snap to your car as you open the front door, legs swung out as you stand. You're hesitant to face him, but you do once your door is shut.

You turn your body to face him, eyes meeting his as you rub your hand over the opposite elbow.

Clyde is frozen, until you give him a weak, teary smile. His steps are awkward, almost like a newborn colt as he stumbles over to you.

He didn't think it was really you, you who he hadn't heard from in three years. You who had left after giving him so many chances. You, who he thought was a mirage from the heat.

"Hi." You whisper when he's only a few feet from you. "I uh, I came to take you home."

"Home?" he asks, his voice cracking.

"Yeah." You nod, closing the small distance slowly. "With me."

"Wi' you." Clyde repeats.

"Yeah." You repeat.

"You're really here." He says, dumbfounded.

"I'm really here." You clarify.

"This ain't no silly joke?" He asks, eyes searching yours. Searching for any sign that you were about to run from him.

"It's not a joke Clyde." You tell him, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

"Why?" He asks, a tear already escaping from his eye.

"We'll talk when we get home." You tell him, moving until you were pressed against him, your hand leaving his to run up his arm and down his chest.

Both of your arms wrap around him, your shoulders beginning to shake as your breathing becomes shaky from the emotions overcoming you.

Clyde's arms are quick to encase you. His stubbed arm was wrapped around you, while the other had it's hand holding your head against his chest.

You could hear his rapid heart beat in this position, feel his sobs shaking his body.

"I missed you." He croaks out. "I missed you so much."

"I know Clyde." You whisper "I missed you too."

You tilt your head up, meeting his seeking lips for the first time in years in a gentle but deep kiss. You can't help the small laugh that escapes you when Bear barks from the car.

"A dog?" Clyde asks suddenly, eyes bright while pulling away slightly to look into the car, seeing the body of your spaniel wiggling as he wagged his tail.

"Yeah." You laugh. "We have a dog."

Clyde tugs you towards the car, slipping into the passenger side and letting Bear climb onto him as you slide into the driver’s side with a smile.

“I love you Clyde Logan.” You say softly, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street.

**Author's Note:**

> This is Day one of 7 Days of Driver Fics event that i'm hosting on my tumblr @Rosalynbair :) feedback is much appreciated since this is my first Clyde Logan fic that's not a drabble.


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